


In My Time of Dying (or in which Cas is a drama queen with a cold)

by mishackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Sick Castiel, Sickfic, sick!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishackles/pseuds/mishackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt:  fluffy deancas fic where a newly human cas is very troubled by the sniffles he has and Dean try's to help him</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Time of Dying (or in which Cas is a drama queen with a cold)

Dean hummed to himself as he makes breakfast one morning. He doesn’t quite remember the words to the song, hell, he doesn’t even know what song it is. All he knows is that he heard it in some dive bar in the middle of Indiana a few days back, and now the stupid tune won’t leave his head. Whatever it was it was now the soundtrack to his Wednesday morning. Well, it was until his mental stereo was cut of by a much different sound. 

“AAAAAAAAH-ccccCCCChhHHHoooO,” a giant sneeze rumbled through the bunker. Holy shit, Dean doesn’t think he’d ever heard a sneeze so big. The colossal sneeze was followed by a stream of mumbling and sniffs that seemed to be moving through the halls towards him, and within moments a rumpled Castiel stood in the door way of the kitchen. 

The former angel’s hair was far more unkempt then usual, parts plastered to his head with sweat and others sticking up in ever which way, his eyes were bleary, and his nose was red and runny. In addition, he was wearing an old t-shirt for a band Cas probably has never heard of, sweat pants with one leg hiked up to his knee, and a single grey sock. Dean looked at his friend with a small amused smile on his face. “Heya, Cas. How ya doing?” 

Castiel groaned and took a longer then necessary amount of time to turn his gaze to Dean. “Dean,” he croaked out. “I’m dying.”

Dean chuckled, “I don’t think so, buddy. If anything you might have a slight cold.”

“No, Dean!” Cas insist earnestly. “My body is betraying me! My head is full of cotton, and my throat is on fire!” Dean wants to laugh because Cas is looking at him with the most helpless wide-eyed expression. “My nose is raw from sneezing, as well,” he adds quickly to solidify his argument. 

“Yeah, dude, you have a cold.” Dean shakes his head and starts messing with the eggs he’s scrambling. “No no no, man!” He quickly says as Cas makes a move to come further into the kitchen. “You’re germy as hell. Stay out of the kitchen and away from the food.” 

“Dean, heal me, please.” Cas ask in the tone that one might as someone to pass the salt at dinner.

“Sorry, Cas. You’re just gonna have to wait it out.” The groan that followed this suggestion lasted from the kitchen doorway all the way back to Cas’s bed. 

After twenty minutes or so the sound of sneezing faded so Dean assumed Cas had fallen asleep. “Poor little guy,” Dean mumbled to himself. Dude’s probably never had to deal with illness before. Injuries, sure, but illness was a whole new ballgame. Then Dean go an idea.

A little after noon, there was a faint knock on the door to Cas’s bed room. “Come in,” Cas’s strained voice called. 

“Hey buddy.” Dean says gently, carrying a tray into the room. “I made you some soup.”

Cas’s face lights up and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a small smile. “Thank you Dean. I really appreciate it.”

Dean sets the tray in front of Cas on the bed and perches himself on the corner. “Dude,” Dean starts, “I’m really sorry that you feel like shit. I’m going to make it my mission to take care of you,” Dean is starting to get flustered. “I mean, Not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself but. I mean, I just, er, wanted to, um. I know it hasn’t been easy since you fell and I just wanted to….help.” He trails off.

“Dean,” Cas says softy. “I really appreciate the soup, but I don’t want to you to get sick.” His concern was so genuine that it would have been really sweet, if Cas didn’t have a glob on snot running out of his nose at the moment. 

“Are you kidding me?” Dean chuckles. “Who do you think took care of Sammy all the times he got sick as a kid. My immune system is an impenetrable fortress. 

So for the rest of the day Dean mothered Cas. Got him glasses of water, fetched extra blankets, and at the end of the day he laid on the couch with him and watched a special on animal planet about blue whales (almost as cool as sharks but only almost). 

“Its so freaking big, man, but one of the most gentle creatu-“ Dean was commenting, but when he looked over at this friend he saw that Cas was sound a sleep. Curled up with his feet tucked in to Dean’s lap and his head on the armrest. He looked so peaceful and calm. Dean took a hand and ran it through Cas’s hair, brushing the hair out of his face. Dean couldn’t help but think that Cas looked so beautiful. He leaned in close to Cas and kissed his temple. “Feel better, angel.”

The next morning, Deans cooking French toast when Cas strolls in. He looks so much better, actually dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt and clear eyed. “Lookin’ good, Cas!” Dean says and Cas smiles. 

“I feel much better. Thank you, Dean.” Cas says, coming to stand next to Dean. “For everything, I mean. Taking care of me when I was ill. It was very kind.”

“Oh don’t mention it.” Dean says blushing slightly.

“I enjoy spending time with you,” Cas continues. Cas is standing very close you Dean now. He leans in so that their shoulders bumb together. He grins up at Dean, who is slightly slack jawed. “I’m just glad we’re both healthy to enjoy.” 

“Uh, um, yeah,” Dean stammers. “I mean yeah, me- aaaachoo!” Dean squeaks in a high pitched sneeze. His eyes go wide and he looks down at Cas who has a similar expression. “Oh shit.”


End file.
